Chapter 9 161-180

161 After buying the egg tarts, Hum and I went home together, Hum hugged her egg tarts, eyes half-closed, listening to the music on the tape recorder, sometimes she hummed along, and more often, she quietly Silently, we arrived home, buzzed into the door, put on a pair of slippers, walked into the kitchen, put the egg tart in the refrigerator, returned to the dining table, skillfully plugged in the power switch of the electric thermos, and sat where she often sat Come on, turn on the TV, and beckon me over, I sat next to her, she put her legs on mine, then blinked, yawned, and said to me: "Boss, I'm a little uncomfortable." This is the prelude to her acting like a baby.

"What's the matter?" "I have a headache." I got up and found Baifuning from the medicine box and gave it to her: "Wait until the water boils." "Stomach pain." I gave her ranitidine: "Take it together." "Ear It hurts too." I was about to say something. "My throat hurts too," she said, looking at me, stretching out her arms, making a gesture that asked me to pick her up, "monster, hug, hug—I don't feel well anywhere !" I know, she is enduring the pain and acting like a baby to me, this is her panacea to relieve the pain.

162 Buzzing really hurts everywhere. If it is cured here, there will be problems there. In short, I press the gourd and pick up the scoop. When she is not feeling well, she especially hopes that I can be with her. She likes me to pay attention to her. Pay attention to her every move. When she wants to drink water, if I happen to bring the water to her, she will be very happy and will often hug my waist and talk to me non-stop. As for what to say, it doesn’t matter. , the important thing is that Hum is showing her happiness, and when she is bored, if I can talk to her, then she will be happy too, although she will still say to me: "I don't think anything is interesting. "

163 "Boss, have you made any money?" She asked me at night when Hum and I were sitting on the floor drinking tea on a chair. "No, I won't make money for a while." "How long will it take?" "Maybe one year, maybe two years, maybe three years, I don't know." "Well, old man, Are you poor?" I nodded. "The old monster is going to be poor, is the old monster afraid?" I shook my head. "It's okay, spend more if you have more money, spend less if you have less money, and don't spend if you have no money." Buzz comforted me so much.

I poured the tea from the teapot into both of our cups. "Old monster, why don't you like to talk anymore, are you unhappy?" "No." I said, then stood up, "I'm going to write something, you can watch TV if you want, sleep if you don't want to watch. ""Aren't you going to sleep?" she asked me. "I can't sleep." "Then I won't sleep either, I want to sleep with the boss!" "Well, you can move freely." I walked to my study. "Old monster," she called me, "I want to watch a movie, can you pick one for me?" I walked to the edge of the bookshelf, picked out two movies from a stack of VCDs, and handed them to her, "Take Go." Hum took it and left, I heard her carefully close the hall door leading to the study, shutting herself in the hall.

I close the study door, sit down at my computer, and fall into silence. 164 Don't think that I can regain my love for my old lover like Duras when I write and buzz. Duras is a kind of pen whore. At worst it's amazingly coquettish, I think a mouth full of beauty and a mouth full of shit is the enemy of art, because that would deprive the writer of the objectivity of what he's describing, but who can expect objectivity from a writer What about the narrative?Rob-Grillet seems objective, and that's what happens when he writes about the absurd, and, of course, the worse, the absurd, as Du Maurier does It can also be written with affection, and it reads like a fly in the throat. I can't write such a masterpiece that is far ahead of the ridiculous. Yes, I can recall humming. I trust my memory, but I I don't believe in the emotions that can casually whitewash memory to perfection. I try my best to penetrate the lies of emotions. Unfortunately, I feel that I have not succeeded. I can't succeed. I can't control my emotions. Gone without a trace, I waged an uphill guerrilla war with my emotions that wore me down and left me with incomplete recollections of past truths.

165 Fragments of memory, fragments of hallucinations, fragments of imagination, scenes of life that have happened, things that have happened in the past, such as gnawing in the throat, and the experience of not talking, I don’t believe it, it’s hard for me to believe it, I don’t believe it at all.But I still have to mention them, it's a mess of threads, I no longer want to weave them into a satisfactory pattern, I can't do that, it's dishonest, it's not good. Yes, the past time is familiar and cannot be forgotten, but what are those things? I guess, that's about the buzz thing, it's about tenderness.

Yes, tenderness. 166 Yes, at this point, I think it's time to talk about tenderness. Tenderness does not speak for itself, it has to be told in its place, it is a form of tenderness, and if this form is forgotten, I cannot be sure of its existence, and I think I should tell it in order to convince me , there is such a thing as tenderness, and the word tenderness does express something, a certain emotion, a certain memory, something deep in my heart, and, with a certain meaning, a certain frankness, a certain passion, Some kind of pity, or, something else. Something else—what else?I don't know, but I'm sure that tenderness, like everything else, is empty, inexplicable, and impossible to tell about it, it's my gut feeling because I've never felt the substance of tenderness, I've only seen I have seen its form, whether it is a secular form or a divine form. Speaking of this, I think of a few paintings, a few movements, and a few paragraphs of text. I think, I think, I think hard, But I still can't convince myself that tenderness is a presence, that it is related to love, yet everything seems to be a manifestation of love, and at the same time, those things have their own names - a ray of light that comes quietly, A wind-blown plant, a rock, a man, they have a certain form, and that form, under certain circumstances, can be called by another name--the love of God from a ray of light show?A lover swears on a rock?Four intertwined lips?impulse?loyalty?miss?die? ——Love is shown in everything, but it doesn't seem to tell me anything. If I want love to have a certain meaning, I have to describe that meaning, I have to make myself believe that meaning, I tell a story, I Say a word, I say it and say it, I don't want to say it, it's no use, it's no use doing anything for love, it's okay if I never use the word, maybe I should use logic, maybe I should just pass it off However, my mind is in a mess, I can't help it, I can't talk, I know I'm talking, but I don't know anything except talking, I have to admit.

167 I know, I know, I want to prove that there is nothing in the world except love, I have another determination, I want to tell myself that only nonsense can be convincing, I have another wish, I want to show that everything about love is worth it Try it, I found some sign of love in a pair of numbers, should I tell others?I don't know, I'm afraid that once I say it, the existing number will disappear, I can't say it, it's a secret, it's a pair of affinity numbers, it's a sequence, it's a mystery—I don't think I should say it anymore Go on, I thought, I can't say any more, it's no good, nothing, I can prove one thing, there is no love, we live the same, I can prove another, love is everything and the rest It's all crazy. Of course, I can also prove one thing, that is, any existence is unbelievable. As long as love is an existence, it is also unbelievable. I can really prove that I have a method, it is very simple, it It's so simple, anyone can use it, it's a panacea, but I didn't say it until the end, I was scared, I wanted to slip away from here, retreat to another place, where love from one out of a shoe, into hot oil, and into a lump of coal.

It's all meaningless -- I mean, talking about love. I mean, knitting some form. I mean, the stories I tell. I mean, some kind of tenderness. I mean, it should stop. 168 This is also a description of tenderness. I mean, there should be a bagpipe playing. I mean, all the little beetles should go home. I mean, die. Die like a rat, die like a bunch of rats. Imagine seven female mice being turned into meatloaf. Now imagine four little mice flying together, arm in arm. In the end, I'm going to tear down the last spruce in the Amazon myself. I mean - I haven't stopped playing games with you - you are my reader, you are still alive, use your eyes to search for everything about memory from the lines I wrote - I mean, there must be something bright After leaving the world, I mean, with the company of light, the darkness will no longer be lonely and painful.

But, best, don't love to die. Better not to open the eyes of memory, that's not good, very bad. I mean, you better forget everything I said. 169 I wrote scripts, and I wrote them for a long time.I heard a soft opening of the door, buzz brought me a cup of hot coffee, she watched me drink it, then she sat next to me, yawning, drowsy, I asked her to leave, she refused, She sat on the chair next to me, with her legs curled up on the chair, staring at something in a daze, I patted her, she turned to me, I said, let's go to sleep, she nodded, and went to the pool Brushing my teeth, I turned off the lights and the computer, and went to the bedside without turning on the lights. In the dark, I took off my clothes three times and got into the quilt. Immediately, Buzzing also got in, and we hugged each other. Hum to sleep.I am still awake. 170 I remember sleeping with Hum, I remember we slept together many times, in one night, in another night. Hum, we live in the night, we hold each other in the dark, in the deepest night, we hold each other, we can't see each other, but I can feel you, you can feel me, we have the same temperature, one breath follows another, one movement follows the next, we all have heartbeats, hair, lips, and hearts. Even with all this, I still feel unreliable, in the darkest night, one embrace with another, one quiver with another, I thought I had, I doubt I did, I care about you, your you, the other A you, I want to speak, but I doubt the voice, I believe, sometimes I believe that you are a hallucination, a dream, a fruit of frivolity, a present, a darkness. We are together, is it true? 171 The story of the mouse, the mouse who can be coquettish, can also show off, and there are little rabbits, otters and little bugs, I told, I told a story, listen, from beginning to end, there are ducklings, light yellow, white , and the singing air, and the trees, did I forget the flowers?I have to remember, I want to tell you, I will talk about one, and then I will talk about the other, the little white cat and the little black cat. Did the fish die?No, no, we tell stories in the dark, we tell stories that have nothing to do with the night, we tell stories that happen in the light, our stories are either gold or silver, everything is beautiful, yes , very beautiful, you should be happy now, right? 172 There was a shotgun, a very violent one, he couldn't shoot very accurately, the body and the barrel of the gun were tied together with thin wire, the eyes of that gun were blue, his hair was red, his There are bullets in his pocket, he has a wish, one day, he set off, to realize his wish, he walked to the beach, got on a boat, came to a land, he climbed a mountain, came down again, walked up again A road, this road leads to the woods, there is only one tree without leaves in the woods, he climbed up, sat on it, listened carefully, he listened day after day, he heard nothing, finally, he held on He couldn't stop, closed his eyes and went to sleep, then he fell from the tree, he went off, made a bang, the shotgun woke up, he laughed, he found that he was no longer a shotgun, he turned into powder. anything else? And--and--the shotgun in pieces, this is the dream of a shotgun, a wish, a dead wish, a wish not to live on, a wish fulfilled. anything else? And - the shotgun can talk to itself. Say something? ――Shotgun, goodbye. 173 I have told many stories to Hum, Hum loves to hear me tell stories to her endlessly, it doesn't matter what the story is, I think, she loves to hear me talk, she likes to have someone's voice ringing in her ear, Especially late at night. 174 dull story. Worthless stories -- not worth mentioning. That's all. 175 There is always a story, and there is only one story, a story, as long as I tell it, it exists, as long as there is a story, there is no lack of meaning, the meaning itself is the attribute or content or form of the story, you can call it whatever you want, but you will call it It's a story, it's a language, a spell, there's a requirement from the beginning of the story, to keep telling it, there's only one requirement, it's endless, once the story starts, it has to go on, unless it doesn't start, the story Only then will it not exist, otherwise, you have to talk about it, and you can’t end it-or you won’t talk about it, or you can just talk about it-it’s over. I think, I think, I have been thinking, how can I tell a story, I will tell it from the beginning, every story has my wish, every story will copy me, in fact, only one copied me is enough , and then the story reproduces itself. Here are the stories I know, and there are many stories I don't know, although they are all related to me, I believe, they exist, in my memory. In my memory, all the stories are interconnected, cannot begin, this moment, cannot begin, another moment, still cannot begin - cannot begin, cannot begin, once it starts, it will be terrible, it will involve There are many stories, there are many forms of everything, there are many stories, any one can be told, but the story told is always an inaccurate story, because there are many more stories, yes, there are too many stories ,Too much. 176 Stories originate from a desire, a desire to speak. Animals don’t tell stories to each other, but humans do. But once something is talked about, it will involve emotion, especially tenderness. Talking about tenderness, for me, is the last time. The tenderness I'm going to talk about involves moments, some moments that are flat, some moments that are pleasant, but there are also moments that are cruel, and touching it has a cruel feeling, the cruelty of calm and the cruelty of movement. Brutal, very cruel, those moments exist, I know, those moments are full of fear, fear has no boundaries, just like emotions have no boundaries, everything is about the infinite, but when it comes to the infinite, it stops abruptly, because when it comes to After infinity, I don't know how to continue talking. Yes, something happens every moment, but, no one knows what happened. Nobody knows.Nobody knows. Therefore, there is a lot that can be said, but there is no way to talk about it. 177 I believe that emotion is the most confusing illusion in the world, and with emotion, I think I feel that life on earth may become worth living, I think I thought so at the time, I mean, in 98 , I was bent on self-deception and building castles in the air for myself. I had a ridiculous ambition to create an excuse for myself to survive in the barren and dark reality. Of course, I had no hope of success. I don't have a strong interest in seducing virgins. On the contrary, I have been very disappointed in myself. A seemingly immoral force is driving me to make something in the world. At that time, I believed that I My spiritual life has been shattered by the knowledge of my own abilities, my earthly life has no meaning, and when I talk to humming, I feel failure beckoning to me, like a nightmare stretching out the limbs of sleep when I am tired. As if the hand was calling to me, I think I gave in, I know the danger of nightmares, but I am sleepy, I have no confidence, I hope to get some relief from my fatigue through sleep, but, I want you to understand my situation, which is that even in the most comfortable sleep, nightmares are everywhere. 178 When I woke up the next day, Buzz suddenly asked me: "Old monster, what's wrong with you, why don't you like to laugh?" 179 I didn't answer anything. Later, I received a call, and a friend of mine asked me if I wanted to join in the fun and attend a wedding. I asked Buzz if I wanted to go, Buzz rolled his eyes as usual and said, "Anything." So I bought two A bottle of wine, and then bring Buzz to attend the wedding. We came to the basement level of the Crowne Plaza Hotel just in time for the wedding to start. Buzz and I started eating after finding our seats. Buzz was very curious about the wedding, and the master of ceremonies gave a speech It can also make her laugh. When the bride and groom greeted each other, she was worried that they would bump their heads. After a while, the bride and groom came to toast and light cigarettes, and greeted us a few times, but there were many people who came that day, so it was inconvenient for us We stayed at this table for a long time, so we left, and we continued to eat and drink. The groom was a friend of mine, who used to be a businessman. After the business went bankrupt, he met the bride. They stayed together for 3 months and decided to get married. Everything was done so quickly. I saw the groom looking affectionately at the bride during the exchange of rings, and I presume he meant: You are in control of this life!No more! This kind of rhetoric is somehow especially touching, and while both men and women may change their minds, I still think that the determination shown in the ceremony of marriage is amazing, and one of the rare opportunities in the world Make any real decisions, especially with regard to your own nonexistent happiness. On the other hand, the vulgarity of marriage is so interesting not only because of its license-to-fuck nature, but also because, when the bridegroom walks around with the bride toasting everyone, he takes such unspeakable delight that he obviously gives Someone brought this message, that is: from now on, the two of us can fuck and fuck freely, you have to understand, except for me, it is best not to fuck her! I want to say that this kind of publicity about sex is obviously very contradictory to the secrecy of sex itself, which makes me speculate whether the groom has already had a premonition that after the wedding, sex will no longer have the previous fun and become A job that he must complete in the future. On the way back from the wedding, Hum may have drank too much wine and seemed a little listless, we didn’t say anything, Hum looked out the window, and even forgot to turn on the tape recorder and listen to music, we passed by Carrefour, went in to buy something, we pushed A shopping cart, walking along the rows of shelves, for some reason, we bought a lot of things and kept putting them in the cart, as if something was about to happen, the cart was piled full, For a while, Buzzing got lost from me. I pushed the cart and searched for her in the crowd. After searching for a long time, I saw her turning around like a little ghost behind a stack of biscuit boxes taller than human heads. I came out, put my hands in my pockets, and walked in another direction blankly. I called her, but she didn't hear me. I pushed the car and caught up with her. She grabbed me and told me that she wanted to eat ice cream. We bought a box of Baxi ice cream, and when we checked out, to my surprise, we bought 2000 yuan of stuff, most of which were not immediately useful at all. baffling. 180 When I got home, I continued to write my script. Suddenly, I found that there was something wrong with the structure of the script. After typing it out, I looked at the first 5 episodes I had written, and soon, my anxiety intensified, and I found the problem, because I wrote the pen without thinking too clearly about the overall structure, so the script appeared overwhelmed The situation, I understand that the first 5 episodes must be condensed into one episode, that is to say, I wasted the previous month. I was a little frustrated, sitting in front of the computer in a daze, Buzzing came over and whispered to me: "Old monster, I'm hungry." I looked up at her and decided to cook. The vegetables are washed, the meat is thawed, and the washed rice is placed in the rice cooker, and it can be ready only after the power is turned on. Buzz standing next to me, a bit at a loss, maybe, she thinks I'm a little cold to her, not only her, but also myself can feel this, I don't think my mind is on her, it's more than that, I even felt that it was superfluous for her to dangle around me.